Is This All Worth It?
I used to think making it to the NHL would solve all of life’s problems.
I thought if I accomplished this goal I would be invincible. That the hard parts of life would disappear if I reached the summit of hockey.
In minor hockey we would travel to Southern California for tournaments. I can remember going to LA Kings games on a couple occasions. When the game would end I would put myself in the players shoes.
In my minds eye, I was the player who just got off the ice. I was going home to my mansion on the beach, life was perfect.
Then I would snap out of it, my feet stuck to the sticky floor of the Staples Center.
Back then, I had no concept of life outside of hockey. No concept of creating a family, building a household, or managing finances. My whole life revolved around hockey as a kid so I thought thats how it would be forever.
I didn’t realize that pro hockey players have responsibilities too.
In many ways, I sacrificed the development of some of these life skills to become a better hockey player. I didn’t go out with friends much. I didn’t get involved in school groups. There was no emphasis on life outside of hockey.
Instead, I would do drills in the yard to increase foot speed. I would run to and from school for cardio. I’d stickhandle in the garage and juggle balls for coordination. Anything to get me closer to my goal.
As a result, I didn’t see life outside of hockey until I was older.
Fast forward to my first year pro.
Up to this point the pressure you feel in hockey is mostly personal. Your cofidence, future, and spot on the team are the areas of pressure. It mostly only affects you.
This changes in pro.
I can remember the exact moment it hit me. In the moments before my first AHL game, I took a glance around the room and had a realization.
There are older players on this team that have families to feed.
If I don’t perform and cause us to fail as a team, those guys may not have a job next year. Those guys are playing for their families.
Those guys were not just playing for themselves. They were playing for their wives, their kids, their mortgages.
That was the first time I realized that hockey wasn’t just a dream. It’s also a job.
In the months that followed, I had to adjust to that pressure. Because in the pros, that unique pressure never leaves.
Now I was no longer just chasing a dream like I had been my whole life. I was chasing the NHL dream while handling the weight of hockey when it becomes a job. A way to feed families.
This was a hard perspective change at first and thankfully it helped me find a new gear on the ice. But mentally, it was difficult. You have to digest it and find a way to turn it into fuel. You have to use it as motivation to bring your best for yourself and teammates with hopes that it turns into wins, playoff runs, and maybe a championship.
If you are one of the lucky ones you soar to the top and have a lucrative career in the NHL. We’ve all seen those guys. They are very skilled players and their careers look like a storybook.
But thats the top one percent.
For others the bubble pops somewhere along the way.
You have a bad season, bad luck, injuries, or just simply come up short.
For these players, chasing the dream can turn into hanging on for dear life. You are no longer after that perfect future. You are just trying not to lose the footing you have in pro hockey. Just trying to keep a roster spot. Trying to prove you still belong.
You are no longer chasing a dream.
You are trying to cling to what’s left of it.
Some players cling to it for a long time. They ride the roller coaster of pro hockey until they are in their 30’s and are suddenly considered dinosaurs by the younger players.
When you get to this point, you become aware of another pressure forming.
That is the pressure of expectation.
As an older player, you are expected to perform the way you have in the past. You are also expected to be a leader.
These expectations can feel exhausting.
In fact, in my observations, the players that handle them the best don’t pay them any mind. They know they are there, but they don’t let expectations dictate their decisions. This allows the true value of experience to shine through.
I think this can be a hard thing to see from a fans perspective, or even a young players perspective.
You see pro hockey players who have been around a long time and assume they have it all figured out. But in reality, a lot of them are fighting tooth and nail to stay in a game that is constantly getting younger and faster.
As you get older, you realize that it’s only a matter of time before you lose a step. Your body will change. Your career will end. The game will move on from you.
At first, that realization hits like a semi truck.
You can see how skilled and fast younger players are. You know that eventually your body will age. Your career will end. The thing that you built your life around will come to an end.
It’s a tough realization.
But with time, the bitterness turns sweet.
Eventually, that realization actually makes the pressure fade. The pressures of pro hockey come full circle in the twilight of your career. The skies part and you understand something you didn’t when you were younger.
This won’t forever.
So you have to make the most of it while you can.
And then you look around the room and realize there are young players looking at you the way you once looked at older players. They are afraid to let you down. They are trying to prove they belong. They carry their own pressures that they don’t even fully understand yet.
This creates an opportunity.
A chance to mentor. A chance to guide. A chance to give someone else what you once needed.
And that is the new responsibility of the older player.
But this responsibility is different.
This is a fun one.
Because it is a way for you to give back to the game that has given you so much. A way to give to the next generation of players carry the weight a little better than you did. A way to leave the game better than you found it.
That is what makes the grind worth it.
Yes, hockey teaches discipline, teamwork, sacrifice, and resilience. But the real value comes later. When you realizer those lessons weren’t meant to stop with you.


This is a really honest piece. The moment you looked around that AHL locker room and realized those guys were playing for their families, that shift in perspective is something most people never articulate this clearly. Thank you for putting it into words.